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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25473247">Constellations</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/clay_boy/pseuds/clay_boy'>clay_boy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wings of Fire - Tui T. Sutherland</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Worldbuilding, that's pretty much it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:53:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25473247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/clay_boy/pseuds/clay_boy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>collection of some VERY short stuff about different tribes' beliefs in constellations, i'm not much of a writer so take it with a grain of salt i guess</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Ram</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>expanding on this post: https://clay--boy.tumblr.com/post/624107849523625984/some-ideas-for-constellations-that-are</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>SKYWING</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         Peak was so excited for the Summer Festival. He’d spent all day in school making summer cloths for himself and his brother, Condor. He knew in Condor’s higher grade they didn’t spend time on such frivolous crafts, so Peak had clumsily put one together, just for him. Condor had promised he’d accompany his little brother to the Festival, so Peak wouldn’t have to go with his parents. His ears perked when he heard the door open and close and talons shuffle on the hard stone floor before heading towards Condor’s room. Peak grabbed the red cloth and raced for Condor’s room, calling out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “Condor! I made you something!” The door cracked. Condor’s face peeked out. When he saw his brother’s beaming face, he smiled and opened the door fully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “This looks awesome. I made something for you, too.” Peak practically glowed as Condor grabbed the horn decorations he had made from ram horns the day before. He knew they weren’t perfect, but he also knew he could do no wrong by Peak. His little brother fastened them to his tiny horns and tied the red cloth he had so painstakingly made around his neck, and they were ready to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         That night, they settled themselves on a mountain ledge above the valley where the festival was being held, ate fried goats, and watched the first star of the Ram rise over the northern horizon. The Skywings cheered and danced and the fires in the festival below winked out for a better view of the stars that were slowly turning above the mountains.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Alligator</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>MUDWING<br/>         It was Crawdad’s first Alligator Celebration. His sibs were currently pestering their uncle, Boar, about how to catch the biggest alligator, and he deflected the question by regaling them with the story of his first hunt, knowing full well that they should definitely not be attempting what was widely considered a Mudwing’s rite of passage into adulthood at not even one year old. Moss pounced on Egret’s tail, and Coypu quickly joined in the tussle. Their yet unnamed sister pinned Moss to the ground and laughed when they couldn’t push her off. Crawdad laid his head on his arms, content to watch them wrestle. He knew tonight would be full of feasting, dancing, and laughter, so he found a moment of quiet where he could.<br/>         His sibs waited anxiously for night to fall, passing the day with excited pacing and spontaneous wrestling matches. In the evening, Crawdad caught them a deer to share. He swelled with pride as his sibs ate the meal he had caught for them. Someday, he would have to lead their Alligator Hunt to prove that he could provide for them as a bigwings should, and he knew his sibs believed in him and trusted him to take care of them, even now.<br/>         When the Alligator surfaced the horizon, the fires scattered in the swamp looked like will-o-the-wisps in the dark. Crawdad and his sibs stepped into a circle of firelight on their way to the center of the party, where alligator meat was being parsed to those too young to catch their own. Crawdad hoped he and his sibs would succeed in their first hunt, but that was years away. For now, they could rely on the kindness of their neighbors. They ate their first alligator together in a clearing beneath the cypress trees, watching the giant constellation rise and fill the entire southern sky. Crawdad’s sister suddenly spoke up.<br/>         “I think I know what my name is.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Shark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>SEAWING<br/>         Torrent was lucky. That was what his parents told him, anyway. He should be honored to serve the royal family when the Shark appeared for the season. Shark parties were legendary, even among other tribes. For the royal family, though, they were comparatively quite tame, consisting of polite talk and tropical drinks on the beaches of the islands at the farthest edge of the kingdom. Torrent wished he was back home. Maybe he wouldn’t have actually been able to see the constellation yet so close to the continent, but at least he’d be able to have fun. But he was stuck here as a waiter, serving millions of princes while they had what may have been the most boring conversations Torrent had ever had the misfortune of overhearing. He plastered a fake smile over his barbelled face, but it didn’t matter, because none of the aristocrats gave him the smallest glance. How the night the Shark appeared was spent was thought to be an omen of what the season would be like. Torrent sulked, doomed to a dull summer.<br/>         Later, when the party had died down and most guests had gone to a pavilion to feast on a (thankfully) pre-prepared buffet, Torrent snuck to a quiet corner and nursed a stolen drink. He wasn’t the best judge of time, especially after a mind-numbing evening, but he figured half of the night was left. That briefly perked him up a bit, until he realized he had half of the night left to sit by himself on a quiet island surrounded by dragons who probably didn’t even realize he was sentient. He heard leaves rustle behind him and turned to see another waiter, someone he didn’t know, push his way through. He was royal blue, and handsome. Torrent was speechless.<br/>         “This seat taken?” The dragon joked with a dashing, toothy grin. Torrent nodded without thinking, then quickly shook his head.<br/>         “No! No, it’s all yours.”<br/>         The stranger sat down and looked to the sky. He nodded toward the Shark, which had risen fairly high by now, and said, “My parents met at a Shark party. They named me after it.”<br/>         Torrent blinked. “So, your name’s Shark?” He guessed, trying to flash a charming grin and only succeeding in feeling stupid.<br/>         “Nah, it’s Thresher. Like the shark. What’s yours?”<br/>         “Torrent.”<br/>         “Nice to meet you, Torrent.” Thresher casually rested his talon on Torrent’s, looking back to the stars.<br/>         Maybe the season wouldn’t be so bad after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Bat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>NIGHTWING</p><p>         Startrail held up the bat mask she had been working on for weeks. It was the Night of Bats, and she was excited. Where most tribes celebrated their constellations when the first star appeared, Nightwings waited until the first night that the entire constellation was in view. Startrail had watched with anticipation each night as more and more stars appeared over the horizon, until tonight, when the entire Bat would rise. Most of the other adult Nightwings weren’t very excited about the idea of a bunch of dragonets pestering them all night just because of some stupid stars, but Startrail disagreed. She couldn’t wait to share her stories with the dragonets of the tribe.</p><p>         Startrail put the mask on and left her dwelling, settling on the grass outside. She could hear cheers and laughter from dragonets further away. An ancient looking Rainwing was making his way down what passed as a street in the village. Startrail blinked at him curiously. She didn’t know any Rainwings would be interested in being assaulted by Nightwing dragonets’ questions all night. She didn’t even think Rainwings believed in the stars. He turned his head towards her with what she was sure should have been an audible creak, and smiled warmly.</p><p>         “I know what you’re thinking,” he rasped. “Rainwings don’t do constellations and superstitions and such. Well, we used to, back when we were a bit of a more, ah, knowledgeable tribe. This new queen’s got my favor, bringing back the old traditions.” He settled onto the grass and rambled on, talking about the various constellations and myths that Rainwings in his day believed in, and soon he had amassed a crowd. Nightwing dragonets, each with a sparkling, personalized little bat mask listened to his star tales, and some young Rainwings joined as well as the autumn winds blew green rainforest leaves through and around the group. They didn’t wear masks. The Rainwings were lax about things like boundaries, both cultural and personal, but they knew where the line was drawn, especially after all the Nightwings’ traditions had gone through. They were still invited to share their stories, and to listen, though, so they did, as the small western constellation made its way across the sky.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Lizard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>SANDWING</p>
<p>         Javelina swept over the dunes, on her way to the closest oasis to attend the Lizard Festival. For smaller events like full moon festivals, she was content to stay in Possibility and celebrate with all the different tribes, but for this, the most important constellation in the entire Sandwing zodiac, she needed to be in the desert. Possibility was nice, but there was a certain clarity of the sky out among the sands that just couldn’t be beat by any other kingdom in Pyrrhia.</p>
<p>         She didn’t know what the celebration tonight was about. Every Lizard Festival was different, depending on the year, the queen, the way current events were going. Javelina liked that no two years were the same, changing shape just like the ever-shifting dunes. During the war they were scattered, since there was no one queen to make decisions, and Javelina had hated the disharmony. But now, with the entire tribe united again, she hoped it would be better. She spotted orange and yellow lights reflecting off a pool, dancing silhouettes against them, and flew down towards the party.</p>
<p>         It was modest, but the first night always was. Tomorrow she’d keep travelling, and that night she’d be in a different oasis town further west, and would hopefully be able to see more of the Lizard. But tonight she could only just spot one distant star, hazy and dim above the orange lantern lights. One by one, those fires made their way into red-tinted glass lamps, and the sky came into view. Javelina snagged another Sandwing as he went by.</p>
<p>         “What’s tonight?” she asked, grabbing his elbow. “I came from Possibility; I didn’t hear.”</p>
<p>         “It’s, uh, vastness?” he said good-naturedly, scratching his head. “I think.”</p>
<p>         “Vastness?”</p>
<p>         “Yeah, like, how big the desert is, and how flat, and how you can see the whole sky.”</p>
<p>         “Huh,” Javelina blinked. “That’s a new one.” The other Sandwing was already gone, disappeared into the crowd. In the red light, all the dragons looked like Skywings, which was strange. It had been a while since Javelina had been to a Lizard Festival.</p>
<p>         She could see what the queen had been going for, with vastness. Sometimes it seemed like the whole desert was just a big flat mirror for the stars. Skywings came immediately to mind when one thought of the sky, and Nightwings were associated with stars, but what the other tribes didn’t realize was something every Sandwing knew. They were the closest to that expanse, the tribe for whom the stars were the most sacred. Sandwings believed that the flatness of the desert was designed for a better view of the stars, and that was what this festival was about. So Javelina, bathed in red light, turned her head towards the infinite universe, and did not regret the long flight home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Snake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>RAINWING</p><p>
  <span>         Coati was climbing the giant banyan tree. His mom had told him not to, but he wanted to see the stars. His best friend, a Nightwing named Wisdom, had told him all about how her tribe used to make maps of them. He didn’t quite know what a map was, but it sounded fascinating. He’d seen the stars before, of course, but he wanted to see the </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole sky. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Just a handful of stars through the leaves above his sleeping platform wasn’t enough for him. He had pestered Wisdom about how to map the sky, and why, and what they looked like, but she didn’t really know either. It had been a long time since her tribe had a view of the sky, too, and all their maps were gone. Coati had snorted and said that he’d just make some himself. She just laughed and told him he didn’t even know how, but really, how hard could it be?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         He reached the top of the tree, and was immediately floored by just how big the sky above him was. He’d only ever seen snatches through the canopy. In all his wildest dreams, he never thought anything could be quite this huge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         A movement from another branch startled him. Another Rainwing shimmered into sight next to him, also looking up at the sky. She was a dragonet, around his age, and didn’t have any wings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “I’ve never seen you up here before,” she smiled at him. “It’s so crazy, isn’t it? It’s so big. It makes me wonder what the rest of the world looks like, if it’s that big, too. My name’s Kakapo,” she added. “What’s yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “Coati,” he answered. “I’ve never seen the whole sky before. I didn’t know it looked like that. Why’re there other colors?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “‘Cause the sky happened when a Rainwing flew too high and got stuck. That’s their wings,” Kakapo answered matter-of-factly. “That’s how the sky changes colors. That’s what my dad told me, anyway. Did you know about the shapes the stars make?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “No,” Coati answered eagerly. “What are those?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         Kakapo scooted closer and pointed toward a line of bright stars near the horizon. “My dad says our tribe used to believe that one was a snake. It protects the rainforest in the winter, and that’s why we still have fruit when the other kingdoms have less food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “Wow! It’s really a snake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “Yeah, you can see its head in the diamond shape there,” Kakapo traced the shape with her claws. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “I see it!” Coati exclaimed. “What other star shapes are there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         Coati and Kakapo stayed in the canopy of the giant tree all night, seeking out the star shapes until the scales of the sky turned over as the sun rose. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Fox</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this one's mad long but i didn't wanna edit it down</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>ICEWING</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         Fir was a fifth circle Icewing. He was born to parents in the lower fourth circle, and had fallen until his position was more or less locked when he turned seven. He had disappointed his parents. Their hopes of reaching a higher status, of having a chance to be important, had rested on him, their only child, and he’d let them down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         So he applied to a mixed tribe school in a diverse new town on the banks of a tributary off the Diamond Spray River, modeled after Jade Mountain Academy (of course the Academy was far too prestigious for a lowly fifth-circle, the queen would never allow it), and he had been accepted. So here he was, a stranger in a strange town. Since it was situated below the mountains fairly close to the coast, it was mostly Skywings, with a smattering of Seawings and Mudwings. There were Rainwings and Nightwings here and there, for whom the rainforest had, for whatever reason, not suited them. There were even shivering Sandwings, most of them merchants. Icewings were the one tribe that was not represented. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         That was why he’d come here, of course. Surely other Icewings would ask him questions he didn’t want to answer. He attended the school, did well in his classes but not well enough to garner special attention, and was friendly with his classmates but careful not to become friends. It worked well. In his spare time he painted, the only activity he’d ever been good at. He painted mostly scenes from home: gleaming tundras and snowy forests filled with the tree he was named after, icy mountains and blue-veined glaciers. He always took special care with the sky, sometimes making it crisply white-speckled-black, sometimes including galaxies of color and motion, sometimes licks of green and purple lights drowning out the stars. That was what he missed most of all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         It was difficult to grow a beard in this heat. His Skywing roommate, Gust, made fun of him every time he complained that it was too hot - Gust had grown up in lush valleys closer to the swamp, and was perpetually cold in the town nestled between the mountains and the coast. Fir’s mane was all but gone, only a thin line of hair down his back. But even thinking about returning home and facing his parents’ disappointment was enough to make him sick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         But then, winter came. He hadn’t noticed what time of year it was, until a travelling salesman asked why he wasn’t migrating north like the Icewings in the town she’d come from had. He realized with a pang that the Fox must be rising, making its way south on ribbons of light. That was always his favorite holiday, the one time he didn’t have to worry about rankings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         In hindsight, he bitterly wished he had worried more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         Fir agonized over whether to leave and return to the ice for three days, until he could finally wait no longer. If he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t get there in time. It would have been easier to linger on the decision longer, until time made it up for him, but in an impulsive burst that would have been punished back home, he packed and left for the north.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         Making the annual migration would have been easier without an annoying, uncultured Skywing hanging on his tail. Gust had caught up to him as he was leaving and bravely announced that he would follow no matter what. Fir pointed out that there was no way Gust could get over the ice wall, but the Skywing insisted. In the next town over, they purchased a map and found that there was a series of islands they could use to hop across the bay separating the tip of the Sky Kingdom from the Ice Kingdom, thereby avoiding the wall. It was rough, flying over the water day after day, with no landmarks in sight, but Fir, fascinated by the stars from a young age, navigated them through and to the other side, to the wide white tundra. They arrived right on time to see the northern lights shine. Gust got strange looks, bundled up in what had to be three times his weight in blankets, but for the first time, Fir celebrated the holiday with a dragon who really cared about him, unconditionally, enough to accompany him across the continent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         And of course, per tradition, he played some truly amazing pranks on his hapless Skywing friend. </span>
</p>
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